Category: Life

A few years ago, a woman proudly posted on social media that she had participated in a 36-Car-Long Pay It Foward Chain at a Chick-Fil-A in Tampa, Florida. At the time, I remember thinking, "Well, I guess that's nice." After all, when you use the phrase "Pay It Forward," in relation to anything, it brings… Continue reading When Paying It Forward FAILS

Like this:

I'll admit it. When I was a teen, I used to be a bit of a gossip. My own self-esteem was so fractured after my merciless stint in middle school, I felt less "different" when I learned of others' flaws, weaknesses and mistakes. A good gossip-mongering session made me feel included because everyone was doing it. … Continue reading Gossip Girl And The Juicy Tidbit

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

This winter, Miss Snarky Pants had a migraine for four months. Writing - and worse, editing - with a headache that lasts longer than a session of Congress is a hell reserved for someone much worse than myself (no, really, there's this guy in Omaha), so I thought I'd spare you (but, mostly, me) the… Continue reading Snarky Threads

Like this:

It's true. I've denied it for years, not because I was ashamed of being a hypochondriac, but because I didn't think the word applied to me. Why? Miss Snarky Pants, with all of her books, her degrees, her 4-year reign as FCS's Spelling Bee Champion - don't be a hater! - never bothered to look up… Continue reading Holy Diarrhea! I’m A Hypochondriac

Like this:

While discussing the topic of dishonesty with a friend who chronicles the unbelievably funny and charming things her toddler, Alice, says in the course of everyday life in her brilliant and wonderfully concise blog, the book of alice, the topic of first lies (not first lays, you pervs!) arose. Of course, there are two kinds… Continue reading My First Grade Judas Kiss

In Miami, it’s practically impossible to grow up surrounded by anything but diversity. My family moved there when I was six, but I first discovered I wasn’t in Kansas (okay, Sarasota) anymore when I noticed that many of our neighbors in our new apartment complex had nailed skinny, metal plates with strange lettering painted on… Continue reading Saving Simone From Hellfire And Brimstone

When I met my husband over eight years ago, we each had two cats - mine were female and his were male. We fell in love and, upon combining our households, became the feline version of the Brady Bunch - except I had slightly better hair than Carol Brady and our backyard wasn't covered in… Continue reading 40 Reasons Why Cats Are Better Than Kids

Dear Old CootsSnowbirds, As a full-time resident of the Sunshine State, I am heavily-medicated due to tolerate your presence for four to five months out of each and every year. During your visits to my hometown, I strive to be patient and even welcoming. After all, you bring with you a collection of used, wadded up tissues… Continue reading Open Letter To Florida’s Snowbirds

We’re all taught to be nice to others. To treat people as we would like to be treated. Bumper stickers proclaim “Mean People Suck” and "Mean People Are Mean." And while not terribly eloquent and apparently created by four year olds, their message is dead-on accurate. Mean people suck. But without them, humanity will wither… Continue reading Nice People: Driving Mankind To Extinction

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Posts navigation

Miss Snarky Pants

I'm Miss Snarky Pants, "MSP" if you're nasty. I live with my awesome hubby and our three cats in Florida.

This is a blog for horrible people. How do you know if you're horrible? Read a blog post and if you smile, you basically suck. If you laugh, you have no soul. In fact, I'm willing to bet you're the kind of person who's farted and blamed it on a stranger.

It's okay. So have I, but I blamed mine on an entire HVAC system. If you burp like a 9-year-old, thank God for the miracle of high-waisted jeans, or occasionally serve up evil, processed, frozen pot pies for dinner, you're in the right place.

I understand you. I also didn't appreciate being blamed for that fart. At a wedding? C'mon.

Seriously, if some blogs leave you feeling hopelessly inadequate, this one will leave you feeling oddly superior. Smarter, maybe. Happier. Who knew having no soul could feel so good?

So, if you'd like to read about the adventures of my muffin top, how I accidentally insulted Alan Alda, or why I hate witty people, please, by all means, read on. Horrible people have to stick together.